Will it take long, I wonder as I sit quietly in my car. I can’t smell anything, and I don’t feel tired. Should I feel tired? I put the envelope in my lap and lean back, stretching out my hands, extending my fingers to test the feelings. My sleeves ride up and I turn my arms to see the scars interlacing over my flesh. Old under new. More scars than any man should bear.
I’ve told her that I love her. That is a lie now, but it was once true. True when she appeared to be beautiful, flirtatious, interested.
Oh, she was interested all right, when I was fool enough to boast. But every man boasts. Don’t they? Of his wealth, the make of his car, the depth of his bank balance. Anything to impress the woman he wants.
And impress I did. Within weeks she was mine.
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